Norfolk High School - Milestone Yearbook (Norfolk, NE)

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2!. monarch point their finders and call them the out-growths of republicanism and claim for themselves and their heirs the duty of extending the domain of despotism. Vet we, in our confidence, quietly fold our arms and cast looks of scorn on these idle warning Wt’ are strongly established. We defy all. Why, the republican party is in power. Benjamin Harrison, who had a grand-lather called “Tippecanoe,” occupies the presidential chair. James b- Blaine still lives. Grover Cleveland has resumed his fishing and tin dear people are happy. To be sure the Tariff question remains unsettled, and the “Surplus in the Treasury” problem is still unsolved; but one must remember these things take time. People in general are thinking about these great questions, but, as George Idiot savs, “If you could make a puddin’ bv thinkin’ o’ tin batter, ’twould be easy gettin’ dinner.” 1 is men of action that are needed. Every pilot can steer a ship in calm waters, but let the storm break, then we look to the strong arm, the clear head, the steady hand to guide the vessel through tin gale. Our schools are tlie best equipped in the world. We firndv believe that education, the foundation of liberty, is deeply laid. e must remember however, that millions each year are pouring in upon us from the slums of monarchy on the other side of the world. For them too we must supply opportunity, them too we must guard and teach the watchwords of freedom. Our danger is not alone from without, but within also. What of our colored population, for whose release we gave so many precious lives? “() they are only‘niggers,’” you say. Yes “niggers” with votes and souls and hearts. Tis the little worm of ignorance that will eat our vitals out, A government like ours is the worst in the world to trust to a vicious and degraded people. In a republic ignorance is a crime. The Greeks were wise. They bad learning, art, and culture of tbe highest order. Who has not read with keenest interest and endless delight their beautiful mythology? As our eyes scan tin pages, we seem to see in reality, Eos, child of the Dawn, rise, golden-fingered, golden-throned, at the appointed hour from Ocean’s bed, flushing by her smiles, the eastern sky to a rosy hue. And Helios, our sun-god, awakening from his gorgeous palace in the east and making ready for his journey through the skies. See, from dewy pastures in tin infinite meadows of heaven, he calls

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20. pocket-books much sooner than one marked twenty, and all because it xomills so cheap. What is more attractive to the masculine mind than the wheels of fortune at our county fairs; those wonderful striking machines, where men work so hard and pay for it at a “nicklc a knock, or three for a dime;” or to throw at a row of little rag babies set up on a pole? But we must not blame them, a ball is always at home in a man’s hand and the rag .dolls do look m cute in their gay colored dresses. These days, every one, even the ladies can afford to sport a cane; they are not the costly things of the days gone by. Each little village supports its cane stand and that old familiar erv, “the cane you ring, the cane you get” still brings its train of eager followers. The cane season and ice-cream season advance band in hand; that season of joy and and sadness to man and maiden. She takes tin ice-cream and is happy, he takes the cane, if he be an expert thrower, and sadly pays for both. Still the gentlemen can’t imagine why a girl will insist upon saying she “wouldn’t la a man for anything.” (iirls know a good thing when they have it. As we step over the threshold of this brilliant nineteenth century into that great unknown twentieth, we cast a hasty reviewing glance over our shoulder, and seeing the mighty works of great minds past and present; the iron bauds spanning our continent from ocean to ocean; our cities glittering with myriad lights like the castles of fairv-land. we, proud in our strength ami wisdom say, “Behold the fruit of our industry and genius, who of the earth is greater than we?” Well may we be proud of our nation—is it not a glorious one? I)o we believe the awful predictions of those who go about the country croaking that the destruction of our republic is at hand; that our structure of liberty is rotten to the core; that we are the deepest of political conspirators,a favored few in power that are “pulling wool” over our eyes? In other words we are being badly whitewashed? There is not a shout sent up by an anarchistic mob on this side of the Atlantic but it is echoed o’er mountain and valley, o’er plain and hill on the other. There is not a conflagration kindled bv the ruthless band of violence, but its flame glares with a twice crimsoned hue, overall Europe from horizon to horizon. To these

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22. his beautiful milk-white steeds, and wreathes their manes with sunbeams, while the gay, dancing hours harness them to his glowing sun-ear. Up and up they plunge; steadily now they climb through all the long, long day, dispelling darkness and tilling with sunshine the homes and hearts of the children of men. Night is coming, tin chariot sinks and sinks, softly into the golden cup floating in the western Ocean stream; clouds wrap it gently about and it is borne silently and unseen, back to the glorious palace in the east. Darkness again! Shall no light guide the poor earth wanderer through the night? In the east, pale Selene, godess of the moon appears. How steadily her silver chariot moves! The raven steeds arch their necks and smoothly pace beneath the guidance of her gentle hand; the vapor of their warm breath falls on us in glistening crystals of dew; we see the radiance in fair Selene’s eyes, as she seems softly to say “Sleep on mv children, peace and rest be with you, no danger shall come nigh you, I am watching.” Such are the tales of fair gods and godesses, that we read today. In the intense interest we forget that Greece, the birthplace of these wonderful visions, is no more. That once she contended with questions similar to those which are disturbing our nation today; that she felt the same confidence in her power that we feel in ours, and that she was once duped, led, whitewashed, if you will by over confident, avaricious politicians. ’Twas but the old, old story of nations, however, which will go on repeating itself to the end of time. “Greece, lovely Greece, The land of scholars and the nurse of armies,” forgot the sacred trust she held to her own people and proved her ‘own betrayer. Aye, Greece had her Macedonians, Home herGoths and Vandals, fair Columbia—may she profit by their example. Lillian Jkreckk.